


Little Do You Know

by Ukthxbye



Series: Bolt-hole series [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Porn, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Sherlock, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Oral Sex, POV Sherlock Holmes, Pining Sherlock, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sex, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing, Sherlock Texting, Sherlock's Mind Palace, Smut, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 05:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14763902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ukthxbye/pseuds/Ukthxbye
Summary: Sherlock Holmes makes the decision to make a move toward something he has wanted a long time, for better or worse.





	Little Do You Know

**Author's Note:**

> This piece can be read first though I think the biggest emotional impact comes from reading Like a Ghost first.Thanks to Mouse9 for her constant support and love. And editing. I listened to a few songs that really fit Sherlock. "I Found" by Amber Run is his hymn to Molly. "Can I Stay" by Ray LaMontagne, and "Die For You" by The Weeknd. Named after a song called "Little Do You Know" by Alex & Sierra.

Sherlock Holmes slipped the key in the lock. Same as he had on and off for weeks, well minus the few times he broke in before Molly gave him a spare key.

“So you can come and go as you please. Mi casa es su casa,” she had said overly cheerful. The weight of all that was before them ignored.

They fell into a routine of avoidance. Ships passing in the night. It was unfair, Sherlock knew this, but continued nonetheless. Rules were never set and silence seems appropriate at this point. Why she lets him have that is beyond him yet it intrigues him. The power he has over her; he regrets and relishes at the same time.

 

This night was like so many others, him stumbling in, petting the cat and crashing on her couch. But as he lay there, coming down from a high, he felt the millstone around his neck, sitting on his chest. He went to his mind palace, and placed Molly in her bed there.

 _What do you want to do?_ He asks himself.

 

 _You’re thinking about doing something naughty aren’t you Sherlock?_ she smirks, biting her lip in a playful way.

The Woman. _Of course she shows up here with these thoughts,_ he muses.

He places a wall and door between him and Molly and Irene.

 _Whatever do you mean, Miss Adler,_ he says with a flat expression.

 _So coy and virginal,_ she coos _._

 _Please be gone unless you are going to be of use,_ he snaps at her as he steps back.

 _It’s your mind palace, dear,_ she smiles knowingly her shoulder as she saunters to sit on chair near by _,_ giving him the distance he needs between them in his mind _.   I am merely here to provide that which you have stored away already in that sexy brain of yours._

Sherlock swallows, _I am not sure if your skill set is appropriate for the scenario I am considering._

Irene rolls her eyes, _You don’t have to whip a girl to dominate her, or visa versa. Is that what you are looking for? Someone to beat you at your own game?_

 _No, perhaps yes…she already does that,_ Sherlock considers quietly in revelation.   _A gravitational force that I attempt to circumvent as she still pulls me closer into her orbit._

Irene softens her gaze, Y _ou are a romantic soul, Sherlock, despite your best efforts._

Sherlock half laughs.

Y _ou know what to do, you have the book knowledge, but she has something else. She’ll teach you, that you can hedge your bets on ._ She laughs back.

Sherlock gives bemused look and narrows his eyes, _Molly Hooper? Clearly you never met her._

Irene raises her eyebrow, but is discernibly silent, waiting for him to elaborate.

Sherlock begins his denigration of any notion that Irene is proposing.

_“She is plain sort of pretty at best, all shades of peach and brown, her taste in clothing is, to put it kindly, eccentric and befitting a woman twice her age. Ill fitting all of it minus that dress…_

Irene nods as she leans forward chin on her hands, elbows on her knees, her face bursting with smugness.

He tells on himself. One day when Molly was at work, he snooped. He only looked at it for a moment, but he had found the black dress from Christmas in the back of her closet, not worn in a long time by the light dust he’d brushed off the hanger. He felt his heart skip, and guilt made him swallow hard upon the sight of the dress. He had apologised but was cruel nonetheless. He ran his fingers along the seams and beading gently, compulsively imagining her in that dress, with his fingers finding the zipper before catching himself and shoving the memory in a closet in his mind. Irene extracts it like a bullet and he is bleeding out.

Irene broke his silence, her eyes set staring in his.   _Do you think insulting women you desire is your Darcy-esque way to their hearts?_

He wants to argue. But he is suspended in his own mind, caught on a precipice of what he thought was true and what is reality.

Irene rises from her seat, and slinks toward him, all hips and eyes unblinkingly staring into his soul or at least it feels like it. It’s a walk of power and authority. She reaches him, runs her hand up his cheek and pulls his head down so she can whisper in his ear. He complies willingly.

 _Dear Sherlock, forget words tonight, for once. You must deduce with your other senses. Use those beautiful hands for something other than destruction. Go to her_.

With those words, the spell is broken.  He is back sitting on Molly’s couch, heavy and cold.  

 

His chest hurt, everything ached. His bones did not feel right on her sofa and he was not sure if her bed would correct it. His heart, if he had one beside the physical one beating loudly in his ears, told him to run to her and his mind said run out the door before he did something he regrets. That she regrets.

 

But that ache, so deep it scares him. The need to physically find a relief to it became too much.

 

He slinks down the hall quietly. Pausing at her door, he checks himself one more time before taking that last step in.

 

 _Whatever happens, you know what the result will be. You know the risk. Decide if it worth it,_ he reminds himself.

 

His feet make the decision as he walks in and seeing her laying there, the ache eases a small bit and the relief is intoxicating. It only takes him a moment as he gets closer to deduce that she is not asleep.

 

 _Does she always do this?_ he wonders. But it gives him hope.

 

Her shape in the dark seems so comforting that he pulls back the duvet and gets in under the covers with her.

 

 _Maybe you need to go to sleep,_ Sherlock tries to convince himself but his mind rushes to other thoughts and visuals. He was high, it was true, but it was such a tiny high that it should not be making him feel this way he thinks. Hardly more than a good cigarette’s worth of chemical rush.

 

Relaxing, he senses Molly ease the tension in her body, and notes the slight pressure change in the mattress.

 

 _Can I just sleep?_ he asks himself and he know the answer is no. This going to happen for better or worse if she wants him.

 

He reaches out for her wrist and grips it firmly, reading her pulse. _It’s the fastest way to know._

 

_Going over 90, she has been at an elevated rate longer than just me grabbing her wrist._

 

He lets go of the tighter grip and rubs her radial artery, feeling the rate stay steady, blood pumping higher for him. It reminds him of her fragility and he wants to move on if she wants, and not reflect on that. It’s much too heavy a thought.

 

_I want more but I don’t want to say. Words will not be right._

 

He puts his hand into hers, rubbing each finger seeing if she responds.

 

_Perhaps I will fall asleep this way…_

 

Her fingers lace with his suddenly and she begins to rub his fingers with hers.

 

The ache comes back stronger.

 

_Move, Sherlock._

 

He shifts his body to spoon her, close as he dared. His lips were practically on her neck and...

 

_What are you doing next? Cuddling? Not your style. It’s not what you need...want. Why do you keep saying need?_

 

But he waits, staring at the curves of her jawline. He sees her near gulp, knowing his breath is caressing her neck, quite sure that hair is starting to stand on end.

 

He doesn’t need to deduce what she does next. She lifts his hand, placing it at her hip and he allows his fingers to curl lightly over its curve.

 

_That’s your cue, like Irene said, use your other senses._

Sherlock feels the ache spread from his chest to other nerves in his body. He slips his hand under the band of her bottoms and knickers to trace that hip bone better, slowly. He finds her skin warm and delicious, like the first drag on a freshly lit cigarette. He wants more.

 

 _There it is_ , he thinks as he feels her deep shiver to his touch, and it makes him smile.

 

_This is rather fun._

 

He had thought that sex was a mind dulling activity, and perhaps it can be but right now every synapses is firing. He feels like could do anything. But he wants to delight in the tease. It is a game he wants to win now.

 

 _But time to move close_ r, he thinks. He runs his hand under her knickers across her lower stomach, grips her side and shifts her into a proper spoon with him.

She gives no resistance only a small content sigh.

 

Sherlock now is practically kissing her neck, but he pauses just for a moment before his lips finally touch. Her scent is intoxicating mix of her perfume which seems quite sophisticated even in its faded state, and of course her shampoo which he also has been using. And also just, he can’t put his finger on the essence that is her. But he has felt it stir him before, when they have been close in the lab at St. Barts, though he chalked it up to chemical reactions of proximity. But now he knows it draws him in more and is baser than just having a pleasant odor.

 

He brushes his lower lip soft as he can manage on her neck and senses her every nerve respond as she gulps again.

 

With a sigh, Molly arches her hips back into his quickly, and he is caught unawares as she surely now knows how stiff his cock is. He grunted instinctually,  He has largely been trying to ignore it.

 

Molly turns her head and he follows her jawline and kisses down her neck.

 

_Go slow. Make her beg, wait why do you want that, never mind, just enjoy it._

 

Her skin was intoxicating under his lips. Every response demands more and she whimpers as he adds pressure.He finds his hand back at that hip, and without even thinking he digs his fingers massaging it.

 

 _Try the stomach again_ and he does, even lower, risking brushing just the top of her pubic hair.

 

But that hip, something about where he starts he wants to go back to. Molly arches her hips again but he is prepared and keeps his hand where he wants it.

 

 _Wait, patience my Molly,_ he thinks and doesn’t even pause at himself when he thought _my Molly._

 

Perhaps it is because right now he wants to possess her. Every inch reciprocating. He finds her ear lobe and scrapes it with his teeth, and increased the pressure steadily. He restrains the urge to bite harder. He matched his fervor on her hip with his hand and deduced when he had reached that point of near pain where pleasure was at a peak. He is not sure how he surmised Molly would love that but he was rewarded with a moan and her grinding her backside against him.

 

 _God, that was primal of her. Make of note of that_ , he thinks. _Time to move further on._

 

He slips his hand up her pyjama top, just to feel her react and then back down to the buttons.

 

 _Slow, try to go slow , make her ache like you do_ , he demands to himself

 

He starts at the bottom, purposefully thinking about each button as it slips out to keep his focus. Because the heat and desire is starting to cloud his mind.

 

He find her cleavage and brushes light as he can manage.

 

She shivers again and his body matches her.

 

 _I want to moan her name but it much too late for that,_ he laments.

 

She sits up enough for him to help her get her top off and he flings it off into the void of the room.

 

With both arms free for the moment he cannot resist grabbing both breast hard and then wrapping her in his arms.

 

She felt so small in his arms and he felt the pang of responsibility run around his mind but she silenced it.

 

Her head turned and her body followed, clasping to him.

 

It knocks the wind out of him and she finds his bottom lip, pulling him in a fervent kiss. He matches it.

 

She tastes better than port and it takes every ounce of his resolve to slow her pace.

 

 _Molly I have to have some control, it is safer,_ he tells himself. Her tongue seeks his but he restrains.

 

He deduces her frustration and he focuses on the mixed signal it gives him. He wants to both prolong it and yet release it. Two conflicting thoughts were running when he realized she was undressing him.

 

She fumbled with buttons trying to go faster with each one and he lets her, it feels delightful to find her accomplished as he helps her take it off and it goes the way of her top.

 

Her fingers find his chest in the dark and begin their work.

 

He has to release some pent up energy and grabs her bum with pressure and she answers it with nails in his chest. A grunt is all he can manage.

 

And then her hand was on his cock before he knew it and he instinctively bucked. His world went white for a second and he moves her hand away to his back.

 

 _God Molly you can’t do things like that...yet_ , He exclaims to himself as he tries to regain a sense of control by kissing her

That control was a relative word because now tongues find each other and he teases the roof of her mouth with his. He presses his and her mouth wider, keeping it deep and hard. She presses just as hard back and fights his tongue with hers.

It's driving him mad, her need to try to get an upper hand.

 

He doesn’t want it to stop.

 

They have been rubbing their bodies against other in urgency and he massages her hip and bum with ardency.

 _Only so much either of us can take, time for trousers to go,_ he reminds himself

He attempts to unbutton and unzip his trousers while she was unawares but there is no way his attempt to wriggle them off goes unnoticed. He sees her smile and he gulps at the thought of what she might be thinking.

 

He nearly has the trousers off when she begins kissing his neck.

 _Oh God if she felt half what I feel right now, no wonder we got here this fast_ he thinks as she trails the kisses down and licks the hollow at his collar bone.

_Licking, dammit why hadn’t I thought of that yet._

 

But now she is going much lower, down his chest with zeal. He is fixed, unable to stop her. Body and mind are at odds and she knows it.He manages to get his hands on the sides her head, hoping to guide her back up from what he knows is her goal.

 

Molly, _you don’t have to, I don’t want to you to think you have to,_ he begs her silently

 

She does not relient.

 

As deft as he was with the buttons of her top, she has his pants down, his balls in her hand, and his cock in her mouth.

 

_Fuck._

It takes all his energy to not buck and thrust in her mouth, it was better than any drug he could remember because instead of clarity he only feels the physical pleasure and brain completely in fog.

 

But then the high is gone as fast as it came, for a moment he is afraid he had come but it was the absence of her mouth, which was finding its way across his hips.

 

 _Please Molly._ He is isn’t sure if he wants her to slow down or speed up. His desires were in utter confusion.

He asked and answered by massaging her shoulder tighter but she just lightened her kisses all the more

Everything aches and he felt her grin against his skin.

 

_God, Irene was right._

 

She trailed up to his nipple sucking it lightly and scraping her teeth to his ecstasy. He wants to crawl out of his skin.

 

She blessed him with finding his lips again but by now he does not care about control. Everything is going sloppy and wet and he thinks to himself, _I am fucking idiot._

 

He desperately grabs her bottoms and knickers at the same time, yanking them down and off with her assistance.

He wants to devour her skin again and taste it and he finds her neck, nipping at the skin under her chin. He hoped he left marks that she couldn’t cover up.

 

Molly rolled to her back and he followed her laying his full weight against her finally.

The knowledge of her relinquishing control again he tests the waters, lifting and pinning one of her arms against her pillow.

God now that pulse in her wrist was racing and it drove him even more mad and he squeezed her arse digging fingers in.

Her moans gave him permission and he found her nipple mirroring the same tease she had given him.

As she arched in response, he was allowed to explore her soft stomach with his lips, pausing at her hip. That hip where they had started became sacred to him and he kissed it like drinking from a cup of holy wine, reverently.

He released her arm and found her nipple on the way down from it, alternating for massaging the breast to the nipple. With every arch he knows their time of all this teasing and touching had to reach a climax. He wanted it just as much as she did. But first he must repay her.

 

He followed the waves of her arches and lowered his head to find her clit with his lips. He luckily was right on the location and followed with his tongue. She runs her fingers delightful through his hair.

 

 _Maybe she’ll scream my name in the end,_ he hoped but she could only managed strained moans.

He wished he had done this sooner. Yes all of it but for a man who loves to be in charge of situations, kissing and licking her was the ultimate high. He took his time, learning every crease and bump while she tried not to come and scream. His cock was twitching something awful and he was having a difficult time ignoring it now. His desire for something else increased.

 

She felt the same as she roughly grabbed his hair, fingers entwined in the curls. He lets her really tug on it before he lets her bring him back for kisses. He settles his hips and sets his cock against her slit, rubbing her and picking up on her rhythm.

He makes the mistake of moving his hips back and then she is around him unexpectedly. He can only grunt at the blinding change in sensation.

 _Oh my god this is what this feels like_. Miles ahead and way better than any hand jerk, job or blow he has ever received, which yes the list is short but this was more than just a way to relief.

 

She knows she has done as she smirks against his kiss. With deep breaths he regains some  control back, and pays attention to the rhythms she responds to. They find one that does not make him go blind and she doesn’t absolute clench around him. He makes sure he is not causing any pain.

She wraps her legs around his waist, and pulling him in deeper.

 

 _Oh, God how long can I last like this,_ he ask himself.

 

She rocks her hips and he lets out a low roar, it sounds like a scream in his head but her eyes looking right in his is the worst of it.

Usually so wide and brown, they are slanted and sparkingling in the dark he finds that gaze and holds it. The effect on everything they are doing, rhythm, sensation, is unreal and he can only hold it for a moment.

 _She has me_ , he thinks.

She tightens around and then the orgasm crashes over him.

He falls forward, burrowing in her pillow and hair, and squeezing her arse while he contracts in her and cries out. Everything went black and he saw stars for a moment. As he starts coming down, he hears her sigh.

 

 _She made me come first. That so unfair,_ he thought.

 

But she was close, he knew that and he arched up over her, letting his lower stomach and base of his penis rub her clit and he held on to what was left his erection. He thrusts in her as she comes around him, bucking her hips once more against him.

 

They both lay there a moment, he does not attempt to leave her as he softens. He wants to stay this way forever, wrapped in her arms or at least he feels that way for a minute, but better sense finally prevails and he knows he must be heavy on her. He pushes up above her.

 _One last look and one last kiss,_ he tells himself.

She readily takes his lips as they linger in a kiss that feels alot like _I love you,_ he thinks in his exhaustion without hesitation as he collapses to the side, his hand still across her stomach.

 

 _God this pillow feels like heaven,_ and he finds himself already slipping into sleep. He feels something like guilt trying to find its way in the pit of his stomach but her hand is on his face, rubbing his cheekbone and he smiles as he falls into an insuppressible sleep.

  


Sherlock woke groggily before morning light. He wasn’t sure how long he had slept but it had been peaceful and deep. He wanted more but then the flood of everything that happened the night before hit him. He turns over, chancing that Molly was already awake.  He sees her form in the dark, duvet pulled up to her eyes.

 _There it is. That ache right in the middle of my chest. I thought it might be heart issues once upon a time though I am not wrong in a way,_ he thinks to himself

His mind is flooded with thoughts. Memories of touching her, making her come so hard as she was around him. Her hands, her lips, he should be deleting it or storing it off somewhere else in his brain but for now, he is keeping it in the front and center position.

Sherlock inched toward Molly under the covers. He needs to know how asleep she is because in order to begin his day he must unburden. Once he puts his clothes back on Sherlock knows he won’t be able to say what needs to be said. Carefully he reaches over and lays a hand lightly on her rib cage

 

She is still. Breathing is slow and steady. _Better check pulse to be sure._

 

Sherlock gingerly gets his fingers on her wrist and tests the pulse.

 

_Low 70s, again steady. She is in deep sleep._

 

He lets out a sigh of relief, and moves back to his side of the bed. The rush of oxytocin is leaving and he wants to hold onto its grip. Heroin is stronger, but it cannot match the effect naturally released hormones have and he realizes why he has avoided it up until now. He adjusts his pillow to sit against the headboard, arranging the duvet across his naked waist carefully and waits for his words to leave him.

 

“You are asleep, Molly. Even if you hear this, you’ll dream it at best. I know. That is why I am saying it now because I am coward. Much more than you. I read you as timid once though I realise I was wrong in that deduction. I am wrong about a lot of things, I just never show it. You always trust me, even here in your bed to make love to you and somehow it will be fine in the end. But I cannot say it will be. I cannot say this will not happen again because...because I never want to stop now.”

He found his face tightening and a lump growing in his throat that he had to swallow to continue.

“But I must confess I do not deserve another night with you. I should find another bolt hole. I should find another way out of this. I have burdened you with the worst of lies that you may never be able to unburden from yourself. If I die, how much more will be your pain? I am sorry, Molly. This pain in my chest doesn’t want to cease, is this the chemical reaction of love or pity? Or both? Or even none of the above. It burns for you. It burns for you to be happy in-spite of me. “

 

Sherlock could not shake the hurt in his chest getting worse, traveling up his throat. He gulps, looks down and stares at Molly, so serenely asleep, drunk off his, love was it? No, he hopes it’s just lust. All the signs there, with flushed skin and pupils dilating as before but soon as they began any work at Barts, it was always back to friendship. A crush along for a ride with lust, but otherwise friends. he tries to will himself to believe this is her of course  He had a different ailment. He loved her. In spite of everything that said no, he is saying yes.

 

“Molly, I love you. Please don’t love me back. Use my body as you need it, use my brain as well, but do not love me back. Keep some distance in your heart  please I beg you. Either by my will or against it, I will break it. I already have.

“I want you to be free of me, and let me languish in my own regret. I want to you marry a man who knows he doesn’t deserve you and worships you. Understand I’ll still be short with him. That I’ll never think he is any good at all. I’ll love your children like my own and when they do anything like their father, I’ll chide them until they are only like their mother. Their mother who my heart aches for now. The selfish part of me wants you to think about this night when you make love to him but you aren’t a selfish person, my Molly. You are the opposite, loving and open and generous to all. Generous to me. In your home, in your bed and in your heart. I am an idiot and a fool,” he confesses with the edge of melancholy in his voice.

 

“When you wake i will be gone, and I do not know if I will come back. Because if I do I may never leave. I’ll lay in your arms until someone comes to put a bullet in my head. But then, my love, you are in danger and I cannot let that happen. Not one hair on your head could I bear to be harmed. My sweet Molly, why did I delay?” he asks rhetorically, his eyes narrowing in thought.

 

“Because now I must leave the things I want most. “

 

Sherlock half laughed to himself. _He said he would burn the heart out of me. It took longer than he expected or planned but here we are._

 

With that said, Sherlock gets up from the bed, and goes to the lavatory to clean up. He cannot look himself in the mirror, but he washes his face and feels a bit better.

 

Once dressed he walks to the kitchen, Toby meows softly at his feet as he starts the kettle.

“One day Toby,” he said “If I make it out alive I’ll try again and I’ll be here every morning to feed you an early breakfast” Sherlock fills the cat’s bowl quietly. Toby runs to the bowl and greedily eats. Putting a tea bag in a mug that Molly had shoved at the back of the cupboard. “She won’t miss it and it might come to use.” He picks up the kettle right before it beeps and pours it over the bag. Leaning back against the counter, the quiet of the morning comes crashing over him.

He risks one more time going to her room, knowing full well he might make the fatal mistake for them both of never leaving. His ache in his chest has returned and it calls him there. He goes to her side of the bed, watching her sleep. He has to say it one more time, for his own heart’s selfish reasons. “I love you, Molly Hooper. Perhaps I always have, I know I always will. If this is goodbye, I am sorry. If it is not, I am still sorry.” He cannot find anymore words and he leans down and gently kissed her forehead and then her lips.

He stiffens as she shifts and mumbles.

“Mmm hmm, Sherlock,” she half smiles and then is back asleep. He waits to be sure and then leaves. With his Belstaff on, he is fully his old self and ready again for his mission. So he thinks as he walks out her flat.

 

Later he sends a text, dangerous but he can’t leave it be

 

**I fed Toby, don’t let him fool you into a second feeding. Kettle should still be warm.-SH**

 

He knows this will break her heart and he sees that she has read it.

 

He keeps walking but finds himself back look at his phone, and he starts to type.

 

**I’m sorry. Please wait for me, I lo…**

 

He stops himself and deletes it; it would be foolish and endanger them both.

 

She waited he knows for those dots to mean something and his chest burned knowing that she was crying as she saw them go away.

 

Another pause.

 

**Thanks-MH**

 

 _Enough of that,_ he tells himself as he slips the phone in his coat pocket.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The first story I wrote is really the third story in this when they make up after series 4. This Perpetual State of Estranged Entanglement. So if this makes you sad go read it and get that fluff in the end you need. This series may have more stories I'll have to see.


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